


On scotch and caring

by Santsi



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: "Wow, Dee. That was dark.", F/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Ptsdee, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santsi/pseuds/Santsi
Summary: A mother-daughter conversation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clytemnestras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/gifts).



> Because clockworkhart"s laughs like God is my headcanon and PTSdee was perfect.
> 
> If you haven't read that one yet, go check it out. Last segment is completely drawn from her fic. No credit taken.

Dee is seventeen, and her backbrace keeps her rigid across from her mother, slouching over the granite top kitchen island, scotch in hand, brunette hair sweeping the table top. 

 

"Oh, it's quite alright dear. You'll never be your brother, but one day you'll be in your fourties, and you'll never have the burden of dealing with your looks slipping away from you. Which is quite the positive," she slurs, and moments like this, Dee is all ears. It isn't often her mother drinks with her. Its only when her loneliness is at an apex, but Dee will always settle for it, because this is something Dennis will never have. 

"The older you get, the less you'll care, darling. So if nothing else, you have that," her mother says, and reaches across the table to squeeze her hand. 

She knows her mother means it sincerely. Its the only time she thinks her mother has ever meant anything to be nice. It's this moment, she'll keep with her. A back up plan she walks with, the only 'her mother's daughter' she'll ever get. Or need.

As if that one squeeze was all it took.

 

.

 

Charlie and Dee have been banging for a few years now. Off and on and sometimes not at all. They start taking smoke breaks because of Parkinson's and fuck it. Its something to do together,  and the guys don't need them anyway. The bar has been barren for weeks, and their drinking for free scam they started the place on is beginning to topple, but Dee doesn't give a shit at this point. She's got smoke breaks with Charlie, and no one else does, something that's her own.

Charlie lights his with her cigarette he's just plucked from her lips. He's still wearing that stupid fucking hat that spins around, and suspenders that really highlight his so masculine-Charlie chest. But he's got that hair so Dee runs her hand through it like its the most natural thing in the world, takes her cigarette back and feels like a million bucks.

"That was pretty dark, Dee."

"Oh, yeah? Charlie? Pretty dark. You mean like when you showed that Taft chick what the fuck was up, you mean like that?"

Charlie raises his brows as he takes a drag and nods, "Yeah-I'd say- Yeah, just like that actually."

"No one calls Sweet Dee rock bottom, Charlie." she considers who she's standing next too, and the all of her he holds in his dirt grub hands for a moment before adding, "No one."

"Got it, Sweet Dee. No one." It flies over his head, but she knows she doesn't have to worry anyway.

If Sweet Dee is expendable,  so is everyone the fuck else, and who gives a damn anyway.

Charlie is glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, his hat is long since stomped into the pavement. She threads her fingers through his hair once more, and the way they melt together is almost enough to make her care.

.

It always takes a few days for Dennis to acknowledge when she does anything he would consider worthy of Dennis Reynold's attention, and she knows she's got him when it takes two weeks for him to even mention it.

He's stopped stripping by this point, but hasn't stopped looking at her in that funny way she only catches when he sees her as his match. Its rare to be sure, which makes it all the more perfect when his cracks split open completely and he has to comment on it.

 

"Sis, I gotta tell ya. That stripper guy. Quintessential grade A, superb take down, baby girl. I always knew you had it in you. You know I didn't treat you like that all those years for nothing. Glad it's finally coming to fruition. Late bloomer as always, but I feel like we should have some sort of coming out party for you."

She laughs, thinking about Mac, and how much that would piss him off.

Dennis wraps his hand around her waist, he's drunk and so is she, and its just them. He isn't so scary anymore.

Now he's a reflection. When he kisses her, its like being 11 and making out with the mirror. 

Its Dennis and its fucking incest and Mac is out, and Charlie fucks her against the dumpster like she's the only thing in the world.

Mid way through Dennis runs a hand through her hair, "I am loving this by the way. I mean really, Dee. How did it take so long for you to figure out sexy hair?"

She squeezes his cock and he shuts up and it feels so good and she doesn't give a shit.

.

 

Anyone will tell you, _Dee knows crack, jack, and shit about anything-bastardized college education be damned._

Dennis will say it with an easy grin and nasty edges like a secret. Charlie will say it, eyebrows raised, shrugging his shoulders, and he'll add "She's not so bad." like an afterthought- like anyone cares. 

But Dee knows how to get people where it matters, and how many years it takes to drink guilt away before it doesn't even take a drop.

Dee sits in her living room later that night, and pours herself a glass of scotch.

_From the ashes I rise. Bitch._

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was spur of the moment. I've been drinking. Sorry spelling/grammar. 
> 
> **edited upon sobriety.
> 
> Italicized text taken from clockwork's universe.


End file.
